


Misunderstood Youth

by chickenandchili



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: How Do I Tag, M/M, Sad, don't read if you like stories to be believable, honestly why are all my stories super messed up, super sad, uhhhhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6625819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickenandchili/pseuds/chickenandchili
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A person can only take so much until they start to crack. Harry didn't crack though, he absolutely shattered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

Ever since he was young Harry Styles was never considered a "normal" child. The first year he was alive Harry never screamed, rarely cried, and was overall quiet. Back then his parents actually did care about him so Harry's odd quietness as a newborn concerned them. Their first born Gemma was always crying the first months they brought her home, same with all their friend's children.

Their pediatrician assured them though that Harry was fine, just a calm newborn. He joked that Harry would probably be a hyper and loud toddler so they should appreciate the quiet baby while it lasted.

Though when Harry actually became a toddler he was still low-maintenance as ever. Anne and Des were thrilled to have such a well behaved son, well at first they did.

In primary school Harry was unable to make friends, he always said he didn't want any but the real reason was because he was awfully shy.

Skip a few years when Harry is ten. When his lovely mother starts to drink more and more, becoming more harsh and cruel. At first Harry didn't understand why, she was always nice to Gemma, it was only him that she seemed to hate.

One day Harry went up to his father and asked, "why doesn't mummy love me anymore?"

Des sighed and picked Harry and sat him on his lap. "Mummy is just jealous Harry."

"Why?" Harry looked up to his father innocently.

"She's jealous because I think you're prettier than her." Des confessed. Last month when him and Anne were "making love" for the first time in a while (mostly because he was unable to get it up), he was imagining sinister things. Instead of looking at his beautiful wife his thoughts began to wander to his own son. That day he came harder than he ever had, with his son's name on his lips.

Anne was obviously furious about this, leading to a long conversation and Des repeatedly apologizing, saying it was a slip up. He swore up and down that for some reason Harry popped in his head right before his climax, that's why he said it. Anne reluctantly told Des she forgives him. Even though now that she thinks about it Des always did stare at Harry with more adoration than he ever had for her.

Now Anne is resentful of Harry, drinking her sorrows away wondering how the hell she lost her husband to her antisocial bitch of a son.

"I don't understand daddy." Harry looked confused as to why his father thought Harry was prettier than his lovely mother.

Des groaned at Harry's words. He's always been affected by Harry calling him daddy. And he knows that it's fucked up but the house is empty, Anne out with her friends, and Gemma at a slumber party.

Des absolutely could not control his urged anymore, he leaned forward and roughly crashed his lips to Harry's.

Harry yelped in surprise, pulling back from his dad's lips. "d-daddy what are you-".

He cuts him off by kissing Harry again, forcing his tongue into the younger boy's mouth. Then Des began to undress his little boy and himself. Harry sobbing, asking him to please stop the entire time, until Des got fed up and shoved his tie into the boy's mouth.

That night Harry lost his virginity. That night he lost all his innocence. All the joy and happiness he once saw in the world, gone.


	2. one

"Harry, you're not doing well in this class. You're almost failing." Mr. Winston sighs, sitting down on the edge of his desk, Harry standing timidly in front of him.

"I know sir, I'm sorry. I'll try harder to get my grades up, I promise." Harry quietly said.

This is the first class Harry has ever gotten a C in. Harry's always been a straight A student, but for some reason he just can't seem to pay attention in science.

Oh wait, Harry does know the reason. His teacher Mr. Winston is the reason. And not because he's a bad teacher or anything, it's because he gives Harry chills. And no, not the good type of chills you get when you talk to your crush (not that Harry has ever had one of those) but chills you get when you know someone is watching you. And Mr. Winston is always watching Harry.

He'd always stare at Harry when he's at the front of the classroom teaching, and stares at him in the hallways in between classes. And no, Harry is not just paranoid. Harry knows that look, the look of wanting, the look of lust. He gets those looks from his father nearly every day. So Harry knows when a middle aged man wants him, he wish he didn't, but he does.

"Maybe you need tutoring Harry. I would be happy to help you study after school." Mr. Winston smiled almost hopefully at Harry.

But Harry isn't stupid, he can see what Mr. Winston's secret motives are, and like hell will Harry be left alone after school hours with this particular teacher.

"I'm sorry sir but I have work everyday after school. But I promise that I'll study more and get my grades up." If only to not have to talk to him any more than necessary. "And I do have to get to class now, bye Mr. Winston." Harry quickly rushes out of the classroom. Not daring to look behind at the man glaring daggers at the young student's head.

++++++++

That night when Harry's father is grunting on top of him trying to reach his climax, Harry fleetingly wonders what sex with Mr. Winston would be like. He imagines that Mr. Winston would probably want the fuck Harry from behind on his desk, Mr. Winston probably loves the idea of fucking an underage student in his classroom. Maybe he would tie Harry's hands behind his back with one of his stupid bright colored ties he wears everyday. He would probably want Harry to call him only Mr. Winston and sir. And he'd most likely call Harry derogatory names like slut and whore.

Harry hate being called those things by his father in bed. Sometimes his own mother calls Harry a whore, just because she can, and it's true.

But the thing Harry hates being called the most is "pretty" and "pretty boy". He's called that a lot, by his father, by strangers, his mother even used to call him her "pretty little boy" when she actually loved him.

So yeah, Harry hated being called pretty. Mostly because he was told that boys can't be pretty. Only girls can be pretty, and if you're a pretty boy you're automatically deemed a fairy. Harry hates that too, kids at school rarely acknowledge him but when they do it's only to harass and call him names.

"Fag."

"Gay."

"Twink."

"Fairy."

"Cocksucker."

Every day Harry just wants to scream at them "My name is Harry! For the love of god, please call me Harry!"

But he can't, because he's Harry: the quiet boy no one likes, and who had not a friend in the world.


	3. two

Harry tapped his pencil on his desk to the beat of some song he's had stuck in his head all day. Staring out the window at the rain pouring down from outside. Ever since Harry was young he had always loved the rain, maybe because it meant that there would be no recess outside meaning no being pushed into the ground and teased. Or maybe it's because when he was younger, before his mother hated him, his family would stay inside on rainy weekends and watch disney movies. Harry really missed when his family was an actual family. His sister left for uni last fall and left him all alone. Harry kinda resented her for that.

"Chin up little brother," Gemma said right before she left. "I'll visit when I can, and you only have three more years left until you can join me at uni."

But judging by how fast Harry's grades are slipping, it's unlikely that he'll be joining his older sibling at school. It's unfair really. It's not his fault that it's hard to concentrate in class, and that he's unable to do homework at home. His mother always gives him chores, and his father always wants Harry's undivided attention.

Harry adverts his attention from the window back to the sheet in front of him, he's never been good with science, combined with how he tuned out whatever Mr. Winston says, Harry is destined to fail. The only motive Harry has to actually pass is that he does not want to have to take this class again next year.

When the bell finally rings Harry quickly shoves all his stuff into his backpack. Harry makes a beeline towards the door but before he can make it out his teacher calls for him.

"Harry can you please stay back for a minute?"

"Mr. Winston I really need to get to English, I can't be late twice this week." Harry said quickly as if he were really in a rush to get to his next class.

"This'll only take a second. I think you should stay after school today." He made it seem like a suggestion but Harry knew the man really means "You will stay after school".

"But I have-" Before Harry can finish his sentence, Mr. Winston cut him off.

"Work after school, I know. But if I don't tutor you you will fail this class. And although I would love having you again next year I'm not sure you would like taking this class again."

"Ok.... I-I'll come for tutoring after school." Harry timidly answered keeping his eyes cast down.

"Brilliant I'll see you after eighth period then." Mr. Winston smirks as the younger boy excused himself from the room.

++++++++

When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day Harry is reluctant to go to Mr. Winston's classroom. Harry knew what would happen if he did go. And he knew what will happen if he doesn't go, Mr. Winston is very persistent. Maybe if Harry goes today he can let Mr. Winston down gently, telling him he would in fact not like any relationship with him outside of school hours.

Harry walks down the nearly empty halls of the school, his stomach twisting up in knots. Standing in front of Mr. Winston's classroom door Harry knocked twice. Soon after knocking the door opened to reveal the older man, his dress shirt untucked and tie hung loosely around his neck. Mr. Winston moved aside to let Harry in, then closed and locked the door.

"Why... why did you locked the door Mr. Winston?" Harry asks timidly, already knowing the answer.

The older man takes two long strides until he's right in front of Harry, the younger boy a full head shorter than the man cowered. Mr. Winston lifted up Harry's chin with a gentle hand, making the boy look into his eyes.

"You're really pretty Harry." Mr. Winston grabbed Harry by the hips and lifted the student into his desk. Harry yelps in surprise at the sudden action.

"Mr.- Mr. Winston please." Harry whimpered.

"Don't worry baby, I'll give you what you want soon princess." The older man then started to unbutton his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. He then took the end of Harry's white t-shirt in his hands and pulled it up and over the boy's head.

Mr. Winston puts his large hand in the middle of Harry's chest and slowly pushes the boy down until he's lying across the desk. He unzips Harry's jeans and tugged them off, taking the boy's pants with them.

At this point Harry was silently crying, while his teacher took off the rest of his own clothing and took out a bottle of lube from his desk drawer.

"See this, Harry? I bought this lube the second week of school, because I knew one day I would fuck you into my desk." Mr. Winston smirked as Harry started to sob when the boy sees his teacher start to line up his cock. "shut up slut." The older man becoming annoyed with the younger boy's sobs, grabbed his fallen tie off the ground and shoved it into Harry's mouth.

As soon as Harry is gagged and quiet, Mr. Winston abruptly thrust into the pliant boy. He groaned at how tight the beautiful young student felt around his cock. Mr. Winston then slowly dragged out his dick until only the tip was still in, then roughly thrust back into the boy. Harry whimpered at how rough his teacher was fucking into him.

Harry thought about what he'd being doing right now if he hadn't come to have tutoring with Mr. Winston. He'd probably be in the same position he is now, crying while he takes what he deserved. Or, what the boy thought he deserved.

Harry thought about dying. He thought about cutting his wrists and swallowing a bottle of sleeping pills. He thought about jumping off the roof of the school, while his classmates who never gave a damn about him watched. While his ass is being ripped in two, he thought about love and how no one has ever loved him. Sure maybe his father said he does, but why would he rape the poor boy nearly every day if he truly loved him. Harry's never felt true affection in such a long time, he'd never even gotten a simple hug from his mother since he was ten.

Mr. Winston fucked relentlessly into the young broken boy, grunting and thrusting, there's warm cum dripping down the boy's thighs as his entire body is wracked with sobs

For the rest of the time Harry just lied there trying to breath through his tears, the gag making it hard. He started to feel a panic attack coming along, it's becoming impossible to breath. Finally Mr. Winston came, grunting into the boy's neck, his thrusts slowing down until he finally came to a stop. He pulled out quickly and Harry didn't even wince, still desperately trying to calm his breathing.

Thankfully the older man took the now soaking wet tie gag out of Harry's mouth, pecking the ruined boy on the lips.

Harry lied there sobbing, and gasping through his tears. He felt sick to his stomach. He felt like he's ten years old again and his father is about to tell him: "Remember Harry, this is our little secret."

When Harry opens his eyes again, Mr. Winston was standing above him already dressed again.

"Get dressed Harry. You can leave now. And remember..." He leaned down to whisper in the younger boy's ear, "this will be our little secret."

At those five little words something in Harry seemed to change. He slowly starts to dress himself, glaring while his teacher smirked at him.

Harry looked to the ground, spotting a sharpened pencil that must've been dropped earlier in the day. He bent down to pick it up, nearly growling when his teacher lightly slaps him on the ass.

The young student straightened back up again, strongly gripping the sharp pencil in his right fist.

Before Mr. Winston can even react Harry his lunging towards the older man, bringing the makeshift weapon to his neck. The once quiet and sweet boy stabs the pencil right into his rapist's jugular. Quickly pulling the pencil out of his neck, blood spurts out, painting Harry and Mr. Winston in red.

Harry sat there while his teacher bled out, the latter unable to move or even scream because of the shock his body is going through. Within minutes the Mr. Winston has bled out, and died.

He began to sob into his hands again. Unable to comprehend what he had just done. Harry went to his backpack he left by the door earlier, and brought out his phone. He wiped his bloody hands on his jeans before turning the phone on and dialing 999.

"999 what's your emergency?" A monotonous woman answers the phone.

"Hello, there's been an.... um... accident...."

"What kind of accident sir?" The lady replies.

"My teacher.... I.... think he's dead." Lies obviously, Harry knew the man is dead. He can't say that he's proud of what he's done, but then again, he can't say he regretted it.

"Sir, stay right where you are, and ambulance is on it's way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that escalated quickly


	4. three

 

It was a Friday morning when Harry was driven by two policemen to 'Clemmins Psychiatric Hospital'. Upon arrival Harry was escorted by the policemen and handed over to nurses dressed head to toe in white. He was gripped tightly by hands on each of his arms. As if being handcuffed wasn't enough to keep the young boy restrained.

He was given a new set of clothes, a pair of grey sweatpants, a plain white t-shirt, and a grey hoody. He was also handed a pair of white slipper type shoes. Then came the awkward part, being body searched and watched while he dressed in his new uniform. Harry felt like a prisoner, he pretty much was.

The young boy was then taken for a tour of the hospital, and then taken to his small pristine white room. On the bed there was one stiff blanket (probably so no one can strangle themselves, or others, with it) and an almost flat pillow. Harry sat on the bed, it was made of some spongey material, no springs for obvious reasons. The small window is barred, so is the small window on the door. Harry sat there looking around the room, while a red headed nurse went over basic rules of the hospital. He tuned most of her words out, already becoming annoyed with middle aged woman.

"So you'll start your first therapy session in a few minutes, then after you can meet up with the other patients and have lunch." Harry nodded giving her a blank stare. The woman left telling him someone would be there in five minutes to escort him to therapy.

++++++++

As promised, five minutes later a male nurse walked into Harry's "room" and led him down the plain white, depressing halls. When they arrived at a brown wooden door the nurse knocked twice, someone inside said come in, the nurse then opened the door and slightly pushed him in.

"Hello, you must be Harry. I'm Doctor Tomlinson, your therapist." The door slammed loudly behind Harry and he slightly jumped at the noise.

"He-hello sir." Harry polite yet skittishly replied.

"Please, take a seat."

Harry toll this moment to look around the room, there was a long wooden desk and begins that a huge bookshelf filled to the brim with books, pictures, and other various objects. Across from the desk there was a sofa pushed up against a large window, and a luff chair next to it. Harry sat down on the sofa and awkwardly placed his hands in his lap.

"So. Harry." Mr. Tomlinson coughed gaining the boy's attention. "How are you feeling today?"

"Fine sir." Harry replies.

"Have you ever had therapy before, Harry?"

"No sir."

"Do you know why you're here Harry?"

"Yes sir."

"Why?" Mr. Tomlinson inquired. He of course already new the gist of why the younger boy was there, yet he always wanted to hear from his patients why they thought they were at the hospital.

Harry shrugged and adverted his eyes to the picture frames behind Dr. Tomlinson. There were a couple of him with an older woman, probably his mother, and about five younger girls.m, probably his sisters. There are also a few of him with a beautiful woman who looked about the dark age as Dr. Tomlinson, his wife Harry guesses.

"Well, I can tell you why I'm here. I'm here to help you, and make you better, so you can leave and go on with your life." Harry looked up at the older man confusedly, does he know why Harry was here? Because if he did know what he did, Harry doubts that the man would believe Harry could live a normal life after all this. His life wasn't even normal before... what had happened.

"How old are you?"

"Hm? Why do you ask?" It's not the first time a patient had asked Louis this, but it's usually because most of his patients are older than him. Harry is actually his first adolescent patient.

"Just wanna know I guess. I'm fifteen..." Harry said awkwardly back, felling stupid because of course Louis already knows Harry's age. He not even sure why the doctor's age was every important to him.

"Well, I'm twenty-six." Louis answered.

"Aren't you a little young to be a therapist?"

"No, why would you think that?"

"I dunno... aren't you a little young to be a doctor? Do you even have the degree to become a doctor?"

Louis smirked, Harry's his first patient to ever call him out on that. "Truth is, I'm not an actual Doctor. I just like it when my patients call me that, it makes me feel cooler."

"Do I have to call you that now that I know you're not a real doctor??" Harry coyly replied, a small barely there smile gracing his lips.

"I guess you don't have to. But I don't like being called Mr. Tomlinson, makes me feel old, so you can call me Louis inside my office.

"Okay. Is our session almost over?"

"Not exactly, we still have about forty minutes left."

"Is it alright if I don't feel like talking anymore?"

"That's completely fine Harry. Do you want me to just tell you about myself? Or I can read to you?"

"I- I think I would just like to hear you talk. Talk about your family." Harry replied, hesitantly settling back into the couch cushions, becoming comfortable for the first time since the session started.

"Alright." Louis nodded smiling. He proceeded to tell Harry all about his family. How he had five younger sisters and one brother. And about his current girlfriend Eleanor. And pretty much anything that came to mind, like his love of football and fifa.

Neither boy even realized their session was over until a nurse came in to tell Harry it was time for lunch.

 


	5. four

 

  
After his therapy session with Mr. Tomlinson, Harry was escorted to the cafeteria so he could eat lunch with the other inmates- oops he means patients. He got in line and received his food, a cup of some type of vegetable soup, a slice of bread, and a cup of jello. Harry looked around the cafeteria, it was mostly filled with older people, no one around Harry's age. He decided on sitting at an empty table in the back, praying that no one will come and sit next to him.

The universe was obviously not on Harry's side today because not a minute later a stranger walked over and sat across from him. Harry looked up to see that it was not some crazy old man across from him, but a boy probably four or five years older than Harry. And the older boy was undeniably attractive, it was hard to believe someone so handsome could be in a place like this. Harry was about to say hello but the other boy beat him to it.

"Hi, my name's Zayn. Are you real?"

"Umm... what?"

Zayn looks around the cafeteria as if he would get in trouble for being caught talking to Harry. Then he leaned in close and talked in a hushed tone. "Are you real or am I just imagining you? I haven't had illusions in a month, but my pills must be not working any more. Shit, I hate it when they up my dosages."

Harry stared at Zayn in confusion. "What are you talking ab-"

"You're way too pretty to be real, why would someone as pretty and young as you be here. My brain isn't even making up logical imaginary people." Zayn scoffed and looked as if he was about to walk away.

"I'm real... are you okay?" Harry asked confused, this is his first encounter with a crazy person since being out in the psych ward. Okay, crazy is a harsh word... mentally unstable?? Yeah that's about right.

Zayn looked up at Harry in surprise, he then grabbed someone walking past their table's arm. "James, do you see this boy?" James sighed and nodded, clearly annoyed, this must happen a lot.

"Sorry kid. Sometimes when I meet new people I can't tell if they're real or not." Zayn turned to Harry, shrugging apologetically.

"It's ok." Harry quietly answered back, not quite knowing the other boy's condition but not wanting to set him off.

"Schizophrenia. That's what I have. Just incase you were wondering. You?" Zayn questioned.

"Umm... I dunno.... like ptsd or something? Not quite sure."

"Oh ok, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"Thank you." Harry softly replied gratefully. He liked that Zayn respects boundaries and didn't ask a bunch of questions and try to push him for answers.

++++++++

After lunch there's group therapy. Since it's his first day every one else in the group introduce themselves and tell their "stories". Which ranged from someone's whole life story to just when they realized something was wrong with their mind, it all depended on the person. Harry's not sure what he's going to say tomorrow when it's his turn to introduce himself to the group and pretty much tell his depressing life story.

When group therapy is over Harry went to process group. Him and the other patients were told to write down one negative thought, then three positive thoughts to counteract that negative thought. Harry couldn't think of any negative or positive thoughts to write down, he was given a warning for not participating. Next time Harry would receive a punishment, he would rather not find out what that entails.

When recreational time comes around Harry sat down at one of the many tables full of board games and card games. He sat there a while staring at the clock on the wall tick by. One minute and thirty two seconds later Zayn pulled out the chair next to Harry and sat.

"How's your first day been?"

"Fine."

"Ok, cool."

They're silent the rest of the time. Harry secretly appreciates the silent company.

++++++++++++++

Dinner was uneventful, Harry and Zayn only engaged in polite small talk. Harry actually liked Zayn, although he's a little (a lot) crazy, he doesn't make Harry uncomfortable like some other patients he's met.

The time between dinner and bedtime is pretty much free time in your room. So Harry sat at the small desk in his room (cell) and doodled on a piece of notebook paper with a purple crayon. They must think pencils and pens are dangerous, because the only writing intensive he could find in his desk were crayons.

Before lights out a nurse came in and gave Harry his night medication. He's not even really sure what he took, he's too afraid to ask. That night Harry cried himself to sleep. Only to be haunted in his dreams, a replay of what happened on _that day._ Harry refers to that moment when everything changed as _that day_. And it's not even the day most would think would be haunting Harry's dreams. The day everything changed was the day Harry lost his childhood, his innocence. The first time he was raped, the first time out of many. Nearly every night Harry has a nightmare of what happened that night. Maybe he should talk to someone about that, Mr. Tomlinson could probably prescribe him some pills. Although Harry doubts he can solve all his problems with drugs. Maybe he _does_ need therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, I know the writing isn't very good, but I think it'll get better. Just keep in mind that I wrote these first couple chapters like 7 months ago when I had just begun writing fan fiction


	6. five

 

  
"How was your first weekend here at the hospital?" Mr. Tomlinson asks right after Harry takes a seat across from him.

"It was alright." Harry shrugs

"Have you made any friends yet?"

Harry give him an incredulous look. How on earth is he suppose to make friends in this place? He's literally surrounded by crazy people.

"Right... there must not be anyone your around here." Mr. Tomlinson replies.

"Well I met this one boy Zayn, he seems nice."

The older man lights up. "Really? Is he your age?" Louis can't recall ever seeing any boys Harry's age, but maybe the lad is new like Harry.

"Umm, no sir, I think he's four or five years older than me."

"Are you sure you're ready to become friends with an older man, considering what's happened?" Louis furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"He's only a few years older than me, are you saying I should be afraid of you too? You're what? Thirty?"

"Twenty five."

"Right, maybe I'm not comfortable with having a man ten years older than me being my therapist." Harry says while crossing his arms. Everybody thinks he's so fragile, and that he can be set off easily. He wants to yell at them that is was one time, that he murdered a man that raped him. Harry nearly chuckles at that thought, sometimes he forgets how fûcked up he really is. And he's not even a sociopath, he didn't enjoy killing Mr. Winston.

"Are you? Not comfortable I mean." Mr. Tomlinson asks.

"I don't think I've been comfortable ever since I walked into this hospital." Harry answers truthfully.

"Why not Harry?" Louis questions.

"I'm always surrounded by other people, people I don't know. The only time I have any peace is at night in my room. And even then I can't... I can't think."

"Why can't you think?"

"I can think, but not thoughts that I want. It's the same things over and over again."

"What type of things do you think about?" Mr. Tomlinson asks, resting his chin in his hand, looking at Harry expectantly.

"When can I get visitors?"

"After your first month here." The older man says back, unfazed by the sudden change in topic. Patients do it all the time, and Louis would rather not force Harry into answering question he obviously doesn't want to answer.

"Why?"

"Something about adjusting to the hospital setting. Having interaction with people on the outside can affect your treatment."

"I don't think it will.... I really need to see my sister."

"I can let you borrow my phone so you can call her." Louis offers, it's against protocol but he can see the desperation in the younger boy's eyes so he takes pity on him.

"I need to see her."

"Why do you need to see your sister? Why not your parents?" Asks Louis, it's odd that he is so set on seeing his sister, you'd think that he'd want to see his parents.

"I don't like my parents. And my mom hates me." Harry replies, there's a blankness in his eyes.

"Why do you think your mom hates you?" Louis questions.

"I don't think she hates me, I know she hates me."

"I don't believe that."

"She does, she's told me plenty of times that she can't stand me." Harry argues, his voice getting higher in pitch.

"What about your father?"

"What about him?"

"Does he hate you?"

"He's never outright told me that he does, but I think actions speak louder than words." Harry replies, seeming uncomfortable with talking about his father.

And wait, what does the younger boy mean by 'actions speak louder than words'.

"What do you mean by that. Harry has your father ever hurt you physically?" Louis asks, becoming worried.

"I- I don't want to talk any more." Harry says defeated, his eyes watering like if he spoke another word he would break down into tears.

"Okay Harry, you don't have say anything else if you don't want to." The blue eyes man says kindly. There's no doubt in the man's mind that Harry was physically abused by his father, he could tell by how the boy reacted to the question. "How about I tell you some more about myself, okay?"

Harry nods wordlessly.

Louis proceeds to tell Harry everything about himself. He talks about where he grew up, and his family. Louis talks about his friends, and girlfriend. And he talks about work. By the end of the therapy session Louis has told Harry almost all there is to know about him. Some would say that therapists should never share too much about themselves to their patients, but Harry seems harmless. Louis highly doubts that Harry is a psychopath who will break out of the hospital and hunt down his family in Donacaster.

"Bye Mr. Tomlinson." Harry says before leaving to head to lunch.

"Goodbye Harry, I'll see you tomorrow."

++++++++++++++

After going through the lunch line Harry sits down across from Zayn.

"How was therapy?" Zayn asks with a full mouth of mashed potatoes. Harry refrains from cringing at the older boy's table manners.

"It was fine." Harry shrugs.

Zayn nods thoughtfully, as if Harry had told him more than he just did. "That's good, mine sucked ass."

"Why? What happened?" Harry inquired.

"My bitch of a therapist upped my dosage of clozaril, even though I told her what side affects I've been having."

"What side affects?" Harry brings his paper cup filled with milk up to his lips, take a drink.

"I'm unable to get my dîck up."

Harry's eyes widen and he starts to choke on his milk. "You- you can't what?!" Harry splutters.

"When I'm on that medication I can't get hard."

"Why... why would you even need to get hard? It's not like you can have sex in this place." Harry's eyes widen even more then. "Are you having sex?! With who!" Harry's not sure that wants to know the answer to that question, but he really does.

"Aww you're cute. So flustered over the mention of sex." Zayn chuckles. "I just like to wank a couple times a week, let off some steam. I haven't actually had sex in six months."

If Harry wasn't cringing before, he was definitely cringing now. He's never met someone so open about talking about sex. Well, he's heard boys at his school talk about it, but he was never included so that doesn't count.

"You've been here for six months?" The curly haired boy asks, he'd think that Zayn had been here longer.

"Year and a half actually. But there was a really cute nurse, we used to do it sometimes, until she got fired for fûcking a patient." Zayn chuckles.

"You two got caught?" Harry asks with wide eyes.

"Nah, she got caught with another patient. I asked around and she must've had a kink for crazy guys because she slept with four other patients."

"Wow... that's... wow." Harry says, nearly speechless. This is probably one of the oddest conversations the younger boy has ever been a part of.

"Yeah, you're a virgin right curly?"

"Erm... no."

This time Zayn's eyes widen in surprise. "But you're only fifteen!"

"Almost sixteen" Harry points out.

"When did you... you know..."

"Umm... I can't remember?"

"What do you mean you can't remember?" Zayn narrows his eyes, maybe the young boy is lying about not being a virgin to seem cool. He hopes that's the case, the other boy just seems too innocent.

"Can we umm... change the subject please."

"Sure curly..." Zayn replies smiling at the other boy, not realizing how uncomfortable Harry was at the moment.


	7. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate how my chapter numbers aren't synched up. Like its part 7 but the chapter number is 6. Like why did I put a prologue?? Im a dumby

  
"What are you thinking about Harry?"

"Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Just... my family." Harry sighs. He's been at the hospital for a week and he misses his sister so much. The events leading up to being sent to the psychiatric ward were a whirlwind. First Harry was being escorted by police to a holding cell, then two days later Harry had his court trial. Right after the trial he was sentenced to the hospital. Harry hasn't seen his sister since a week before he killed Mr. Winston.

Harry wonders what Gemma's thoughts about this whole thing were. Is she sympathetic towards Harry? Is she afraid of him? Does she even want to see him?

"What about your family? Do you still want to see your sister?"

"Yes Mr. Tomlinson, I just... I need to tell her what happened. I have no idea what she thinks of me right now."

"I'm sure she still loves you Harry." Louis replies trying to be reassuring.

"I'm not worried about that.I know Gem will love me no matter what. I just don't want her thoughts toward me to change. I don't want her to know how crazy I am."

"Why do you think Gemma's thoughts about you change?" Louis chooses to ignore the fact that Harry called himself crazy. It would be stupid of him to tell the boy he wasn't crazy. If Harry wasn't crazy he wouldn't be here.

"I killed Mr. Winston. I killed him and there is no going back from that. I'm a murderer, who wants a murderer as a brother?" Harry brings both his hands up to his face, whimpering into his hands

"Harry, if you ever want to get better and leave this place, you need to let go of the past. You're so young and have a long future ahead of you."

"I can't possibly have a normal life after this. I haven't finished school, and no one wants to hire someone with a criminal record."

"That's not true, you'll get better and then you can go back to school."

"How will I pay for schooling? And housing and clothes and food?"

"You're.. you're parents will won't they? Until you graduate and get a job?" Louis asks confused.

"I doubt my parents will welcome me back into their home with open arms." Harry chuckles dryly. "My mom already hates me, and now she actually has a reason to kick me out of the house. And my dad is probably pissed I let some other man touch me." Harry looks up, eyes wide. He can't believe he let that slip out. Hopefully Louis won't look too into it.

"What do you mean that your father will be mad that another man touched you?" Louis asks hesitantly, hoping to not upset the boy more than he already is. "Did... did someone else touch you? Harry were you... raped before?" Louis whispers the word 'rape' like its a curse word, like if he says it too loudly something bad will happen.

"No!" Harry shrieks. "I mean no. No that had never happened before." Harry says this time more calmly.

"Then what did you mean by that Harry? You need to tell me." Louis demands.

"Please don't make me say it." Harry sobs.

"You were raped before... how many times?" Louis himself feels like crying at this point. This young broken boy had been through so much in his short lifetime. Louis has younger sisters and can't even fantom the idea of this happening to any of them, especially at this age.

"I don't know... too many." There are tears streaming down Harry's face, his eyes are red, and his face is blushed a deep red.

"Was it your father?"

Harry nods sadly. He has no idea why he was even trying to protect his father all this time. He should've told someone a long time ago, but it's just... hard. It's hard to admit that you've been raped, it's... embarrassing. Harry feels damaged, he thinks no one could ever love him if they knew what his father had done to him. His teacher is one thing, but his own family member doing it is just... it's sickening.

"I need to call the police. Don't worry Harry, he'll be put in jail for a long time. That bastard won't get away with is." Louis says determined to put the boy's disgusting father in jail.

"Ok." Harry sniffles. "Can I go now? I... I'm hungry."

Louis looks down sadly at the younger boy. His heart hurts for the boy. "Alright Harry. I'll just... I'll make the call."

Louis isn't sure if letting the boy leave is the best thing to do after such a revelation. It's not good to let Harry leave when he's so sad, but Louis is certain Harry won't do anything stupid when he's in this state. He trusts him.

++++++++++++++++++

Harry walks sluggishly to the cafeteria. He feels a little lighter now that he had admitted to his therapist what his father did to him. Harry walks through the lunch line and grabs a tray, filling his tray with the food of the day. It looks like... maybe shepherds pie? It doesn't matter, Harry probably won't eat it anyway.

Sitting down Harry starts to run through the events of today in his head. He can't believe his father was going to be arrested. Oh no. What will Gemma think? Will she be mad that Harry was the cause of their dad being sent to prison? Harry feels himself start to breath faster. His sister will hate him. His father will hate him. His mother hates him already but now it'll be even worse.

Harry feels tears starting to sting his eyes, and the room feels so stuffy. It feels like his head is spinning. Harry jumps as a hand is rested on his shoulder. Zayn takes a seat neat next to Harry, his hand still on the younger boy's shoulder.

"What's up Harry? Are you feeling alright?" Zayn asks. Harry does not look so good, his face is pale and he's breaking out in a cold sweat. "What happened Harry?"

"I... my dad is going to jail and its all my fault. My-my sister hates me now.. and and everyone is going to know I'm broken and I don't want that. I know I'm broken but I don't want anyone else to know. I'm so scared Zayn.. I'm scared my life is over and-and I have no friends, theres no one there for me. I hate myself, everything that has happened to me has happened because I deserve it. I'm so awful Zayn."

Zayn stares wide eyed at his curly haired friend. It's a lot of information to process, and he has so many questions but he knows now is not the time. Zayn pulls the sobbing boy into his arms and rubs soothing circles on the boy's back. Unexpectedly Harry throws his arms around Zayn's middle, sobbing into the older boy's chest.

"It's ok Harry. It'll all be ok." Zayn whispers into Harry's ear.

They stay like that for about a minute until they hear a shout. "Hey! No touching between patients." A male nurse yells at them.

"Come on man, he's having a panic attack and needs to be comforted."

"I don't care if he's dying, you're still not allowed to touch."

"He's fifteen for bloody sakes! Leave him be!" Zayn shouts becoming angry.

"It's okay." Harry whimpers, puling away from Zayn and wiping some of his tears away.

  
"That's it, you're both getting punishments. No recreational hour for five days, and you'll be served meals in your rooms." The nurse proclaimed.

"You're a fucking tosser you know that? You nurses and doctors don't understand we are people with feelings! You can't just ban all human contact, people need comfort when they're sad. And in case you didn't notice, we're all sad 90% of the bloody time." Zayn exclaims. Everyone is the cafeteria is listening at this point, and some of the other patients start to clap.

The moment is short lived though because two other nurse each take one of Zayn's arms, roughly dragging him out of the room. Leaving Harry to try and cope with his panic attack on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zayn is tha realest


	8. seven

  
Every day Harry is surrounded by sadness. Everyone in the hospital is sad, or too crazy to even realize they're sad. It's awful. Hearing other's talk about how terrible their lives are, all the tragedies they've gone through that made them end up in here.

Harry's problems seem obsolete in comparison. He doesn't feel worthy to share his troubles, the reasons why he's sad. So many people have been through so much worse. He had no right to go a little crazy just because a few unfortunate events. That's how Harry feels constantly. Not even comfortable sharing what he's gone through in his group therapy, Because others have it worse. That's what Harry believes.

"What's up Harry?" Zayn asks sitting down next to him. Harry isn't quite sure how Zayn even found him, the younger boy thought he was quite hidden sitting on a bench in the back of the small library. He hadn't even known the psychiatric hospital had a library until yesterday. Harry's pretty sure he'll spend his recreational hours here rather than the game room for the rest of his stay. Barely anyone comes into the library, only the librarian who's asleep more often than not.

"Nothin much. You?" Harry politely asks back.

"Eh same. We're hanging out here now? That's cool, I hate the game room. All the board games are missing pieces. Which sucks because I love a good game of candyland."

Harry's not sure if the older boy is joking or not so he just politely chuckles, hoping Zayn was trying to be funny.

"So... know we're alone, do you want to tell me why you're here? Is it depression? Anorexia? You do look a little thin.... but I see you eat everyday... do you purge? maybe you have anxiety? Sorry I'm rambling."

"Um it's ok. But to be honest my therapist doesn't know if I actually have a mental illness or not. Like maybe I have ptsd but.. yeah."

"Elaborate."

"I killed someone." Harry blurts out, nights as well get it over with. He can't just not tell his only friend what's wrong with him and why he's here. "My teacher. I killed my teacher."

Zayn's eyes are wide, like that was the last thing he expected to come out of the innocent looking boy's mouth. "Why...?"

"He um... raped me? Like he raped me and I don't know I like... stabbed him with a pencil. Yeah... in the neck."

"He raped you! That bastard bloody well deserved being stabbed in the neck!"

"SHHH! You'll wake the librarian." Harry tries to quiet Zayn down. The older boy looks red in the face, a minute from flipping out.

"Why are you here then?? Like... you were raped. That oughta be a good reason to kill someone. Especially because your underage."

"Yeah... but I probably won't be here long. I think maybe the judge will decide I don't need to be in here after my dad's trial."

"What's your dad on trial for?" Zayn questions.

And shit. Harry didn't mean to say anything about his dad. "Umm don't freak out again but..." Harry looks down at his hands, picking at the skin around his nails. ".... he... did what my teacher did."

"He...."

"Yes, he did." Harry cuts Zayn off, never wanting to hear or say the 'R' word again. He feels sick to his stomach every time it's mentioned, that word brings back terrible memories.

Zayn takes both of Harry's hands into his own, a sad expression on his face. He looks as if he's about to cry. "I'm sorry you had to go through that Harry. If you ever need to talk about any of this or anything really with me, I want you to know you can. I'm a good listener."

"Thanks but I don't want to burden you with knowing all my problems any more than I have. That's what my therapist is for."

"But maybe sometimes it's better to have a friend to talk to. Makes it easier. And I can relate to you more than most therapists."

"You're right, thank you so much Zayn. You're the first friend I've ever had, other than my older sister." Harry feels himself tearing up again. It's true, he never had any real friends. Always being too quiet and reserved. He was an old soul since an early age, preferring quiet time rather than recess, and enjoying learning over playing. It became ever worse after the first incident with his father, he became more reserved and distant. No one likes a boring buzzkill, so the few kids that actually did like him started to stop speaking to him.

"You're first friend? I doubt that, you're so nice, how could anyone not love you?"

"I guess it's quite easy, considering no one loves me." Harry retorts. m

"So you've never had a girlfriend or boyfriend? But you're so cute! There must've been a few people who've asked you out at least."

"Nah, I'm quite reserved I guess. Never even had my first kiss, well first kiss with someone I actually want to kiss."

"I'm so sorry Harry."

"You don't have to keep saying that. It loses its meaning after so many times."

"Alright I'm not sorry." Zayn cracks a smile jokingly.

"Damn ok." Harry laughs, causing Zayn to follow suit.

"I've never heard you laugh before, it's beautiful."

"Thanks." Harry blushes looking down. Zayn lifts his chin up with two fingers so they can look each other in the eyes. "Do you love me?" Harry asks, he's never felt this way before. There're butterflies flapping violently in his stomach, and his palms feel sweaty. Is this what being in love is suppose to be like? He's attracted to Zayn, and he thinks the other boy is nice. Isn't that love? Harry's not even sure.

"I... I think I'm falling in love with you." Zayn admits, the older boy had never been in love. Sure he loves his family but he's never loved any of the boys or girls he's dated or even just fucked. It's a weird feeling, he can't decipher whether it's love or just deep affection.

"Can you kiss me?" Harry asks in a whisper, scared talking any louder will shatter the bubble surrounding the two making them unaware of the outside world.

Zayn doesn't answer, just brings his left hand to Harry's cheek cupping it. Then leaning forward until his lips are less than a centimeter apart from Harry's. He waits to let Harry close the distance, not wanting to rush the younger boy into things.

After a few moments Harry lets his eyes fall shut and closes the gap between his and Zayn's lips. It's a short kiss, what you would expect from a first kiss, chaste and sweet. Harry doesn't hesitate this time to bring his lips back to Zayn's after wetting his own by licking his lips. The younger boy leads the kiss, moving his lips slowly against the dark haired boy. He'd never shared a kiss like this, slow and where he's in the lead. It's not rushed, and Harry doesn't have to worry about what sexual activity the kiss may lead to. Overall it's nice.

They continue to kiss, every once in a while breaking for air. Zayn's hands run through Harry's hair, while The younger's stay in his lap.

"What the hell?!" The two boys break apart quickly at the sound of a angered voice. Harry turns to see who interrupted, and then his heart drops. Standing there is his therapist, looking livid with anger.


	9. eight

When Louis first read Harry Styles' file he was intrigued. After he actually met the boy he was even more intrigued. Every session they have is more interesting than the previous. Harry is unlike any of Louis' other patients.

It's odd, Louis feels deeply for the younger boy, he wants to protect him from the dangerous world they live in. Louis wishes he could of found Harry sooner, so he would never have to go through such a traumatizing childhood. Harry never deserved that. Really no one deserves that. It's just out of everyone in the world why was it that this sweet, beautiful boy had to be hurt this way? it's not fair. Life isn't fair, especially towards Harry.

Ever since Harry had told Louis about his father and what he had done to him, Louis had been working on the case day and night. Momentarily forgetting his other patients and even his girlfriend. He wants so badly for Harry's father to rot in prison.

But all in all Louis just wants Harry to be happy. Yesterday Louis had talked to his boss about letting Harry have a visit from his sister, saying Harry's mental health will benefit from it. Which it will.

That's why Louis has been looking for Harry everywhere. They didn't have a scheduled session today but Louis just couldn't wait to tell the curly haired boy the news. He looked in Harry's room, the cafeteria, and the rec room. After over 10 minutes of searching Louis decided to ask one of the nurses.

"Excuse me, Anna?" Louis asked the blonde nurse passing by.

"Can I help you Louis?" Anna asked sweetly.

"Um yeah, do you maybe know where Harry Styles is? I have something I need to tell him."

"Oh, I don't think therapists are allowed to see their patients outside of therapy." She informed Louis.

"I just need to tell him something real quick. It'll be our little secret." Louis adds in a wink for affect, knowing most of the female nurses have crushes on him.

Anna blushed and nodded. "Alright." She giggled, "he's probably in the library."

"Thanks love!" Louis turned on heels of his feet and makes his way to the library, buzzing with excitement. He can't wait to see Harry's face when he tells him the news, maybe he'll even smile.

Louis walks through the library doors, looking around for Harry. It doesn't take long, the library is quite small so Louis immediately finds Harry in a secluded nook in the back.

He looks around a bookshelf hoping to surprise the younger boy with good news, but he halts realizing Harry isn't alone. There's another boy, with a tan complexion and dark hair. It takes Louis a second to realize that Harry isn't just sitting with the another person, he's full on kissing him. The older boy has one of his hands in Harry's hair, running his fingers through the curly locks.

At first Louis is confused as to what is happening. But after he heard a small whimper leave Harry's lips, confusion soon turned to anger. How dare this older boy kiss his patient, how dare he even _touch_ Harry.

"What the hell?!" Louis' sudden outburst caused the two boys to break apart quickly. There's a deep pink blush on Harry's cheeks, his lips shiny and red from kissing, and his eyes wide with fear for being caught.

"Mr. Tomlinson!" Harry yelps, moving himself further away from the other boy.

Louis can't think straight, he feels so much anger coursing through his veins. He turned toward the boy who was kissing Harry. "What the hell do you think you're doing kissing an underaged boy! And have you forgotten that patients are not allowed to touch let alone bloody makeout?!" Louis whispers angrily, not wanting to gain attention from others, though only the librarian was there and she was asleep.

"I-" The boy starts, but Louis cuts him off.

"Harry, was he harassing you." Louis looks to Harry concerned, after all the boy had been through Louis is desperate to protect him.

"Wha- No! He... Zayn was just- I asked if he could kiss me because like... I've never really been kissed by someone I wanted to. I'm sorry, I pretty much made him do it, it was my idea. Sorry... I just wanted to have control over something in my life."

Louis' heart breaks at that, immediately feeling guilty. Harry had just wanted to make a decision himself, that decision being to be close to someone intimately that he chooses. It's actually quite brave, Louis thinks, being able to decide not to let fear of intimacy develop and instead facing his fears head on.

"I think maybe you should come with me to my office Harry, you're not in trouble we just need to talk." Louis said softly to Harry. "And Zayn, I don't want you to ever touch my patient again, even if he wants you to, it's against hospital policy."

"Yes sir." Zayn answered obediently, there're tears springing up into his eyes. Louis would rather not think too hardly about why that is.

+++++++

"Do you like Zayn, Harry?" Louis asked after they both sit down in his office.

"Yes sir." Harry answered back quietly.

"So... you want to form a... relationship with him?" Louis doesn't know why but just thinking about Harry being in love with someone makes him feel mad. He hopes its just him feeling protective over the young boy.

"I'm not sure. I just wanted to kiss him. My father was my first kiss... and other than him the only other person who had kissed me was Mr. Winston. I just wanted to kiss someone I wasn't afraid of, someone I could trust, someone I maybe could fall in love with."

"I think that's great that you want to do that Harry, but I think being in a relationship would be counterproductive to your treatment. And how old is Zayn anyways?"

"He's 19. And I think we've had this conversation already."

Louis starts looking through his notes, trying to find when they had talked about Zayn. "He's the friend with schizophrenia?"

"Yes."

"How can you be in a healthy relationship with someone with a disease that severe?"

"How can someone be in a relationship with a murderer?? Maybe we're bother a little fucked up but that's ok, we understand each other."

"You're not fucked up Harry. I talked to the attorney assigned to your case and he says the court will probably release you from here in a couple months. Things will go back to normal. And you will most likely never see Zayn again."

"I can visit him." Harry said back defiantly, arms crossed over his chest.

"Harry, you're young. Don't think so hastily."

"Why are you acting this way? Why can't I be happy?"

"Harry I want you to be happy. I've been trying for two weeks to make you happy. I begged my boss to let your sister come visit on you're birthday for christ sakes!"

Harry's eyes widen. "They're letting me see my sister?"

"Yes, I went to the library to tell you until I saw your face being practically eaten off by some other patient!" Louis said back a little bit pissed off. He went out of his way to make Harry happy but he cares more about Zayn.

Harry seemed to ignore Louis' passive aggressive comment and instead jumps from his chair smiling widely. "I get to see Gemma!" He yells excitedly. There're dimples the size of craters that pop up into Harry's cheeks and Louis can't help but think Harry has the prettiest smile ever.

"Thank you Mr. Tomlinson!" Harry runs around Louis' desk and wraps his arms around the older man, too happy to realize what he's doing.

Louis is surprised at first and his immediate reaction is to pull away. Which he would... if this was any other patient. But because it's Harry, Louis wraps his arms around Harry's shoulders and lets the younger boy cry tears of joy onto his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how cute was that? so cute


	10. IX

 

"I thought today was your day off, Louis?"

"It was... but it's one of my patient's birthdays today, and his first visit from a family member. I just need to be there, in case something goes wrong and he needs to see me." Which is a lie for the most part. Louis highly doubts something will go wrong, Harry isn't actually mental like other patients. Louis honestly just wants to wish Harry a happy birthday, and maybe meet his sister. Also Louis had bought Harry a present, ever since seeing his smile a couple days ago after telling him his sister is visiting he's been trying to get Harry to smile more and more.

"Why the hell do you care about your patients more than your own girlfriend." Eleanor frowns, looking more angry than sad.

"I don't care more about my patients Eleanor. It's just that... Harry is so young and... I don't know, I just want to make sure he's okay."

"So what you're saying is that you want to fûck him."

"What the hell? No! What has gotten into you.? He's my 15- well now 16 year old patient." Louis is astonished that Eleanor would make such a big accusation. She's been acting like this ever since Louis admitted that he was bisexual, which she thought meant he wanted to have sex with every man he saw. What is it with some people thinking gay men want to sleep with every bit and man they see? And Louis isn't even fully gay!

"So now you're some sort of pedophile now?"

"You know what Eleanor? I don't need this, sometimes you act crazier than half my patients." Louis pulls on his coat and grabs his briefcase, opening the front door to leave.

"Fûck you Louis!" Eleanor yells out before Louis snaps the door in her face.

"Fûcking psycho." Louis mumbles to himself, getting into his car to drive to the psych ward.

++++++++

"Is my sister here yet?"

Harry is practically bouncing up and down in his seat from excitement, he was so happy to see his sister and talk. He's a little nervous about what Gemma will say, but she's one of the nicest people he knows so there's not much to worry about.

"I'm not sure, I think a nurse will come and get you when she is." Louis smirks at the excited curly haired boy, this was so worth getting in a fight with Eleanor.

Him and Harry are now currently in Harry's 'room', the younger sitting on his bed, and Louis at the desk. Louis reaches into his back pocket and brings out a rectangular box wrapped in red wrapping paper. "I got you a birthday present."

Harry's eyes light up. "Really? You didn't have to do that."

"Well you only turn 16 once, here ya go." Louis tosses it into the green eyed boy's lap.

Harry carefully rips off the paper, and and opens the box. Inside there is a brown leather journal, Harry smiles up at Louis.

"Thank you so much Mr. Tomlinson, I love it. This is the best birthday present I've ever received." The green eyed boy smiles so widely that his dimples pops out. Louis never thought he could love anything as much as he loves his family, but here he is in love with these fûcking dimples. And maybe even a little bit in love with the boy who has said dimples.

Wait. Hold up. No. He's not in love with his newly turned 16 year old patient. He's just... well... Harry is like a son- wait no, brother to him. A brother that he maybe wouldn't mind kissing. What the fuck. What is even going through his head right now? He absolutely doesn't think Harry is cute and pretty, and he absolutely does not think that he's sweet and smart and perfect boyfriend material. That would be weird and creepy, what Eleanor said earlier that morning was just getting to him. Yeah, that makes sense.

"I'm glad you love it Harry. I thought maybe you could write your thoughts in it and such, maybe it can even be your dream journal."

"I don't think I've had any dreams in a while. It's mostly nightmares."

"How often do you have nightma-" Louis starts to go into therapist mode but gets cut off by a knock on the door. The older man gets up from his seat and opens the door, revealing a nurse.

"Hi Louis!" The blonde nurse smiles upon seeing the blue eyed therapist. "How are you today?" She smiles fun a flirty way at him, leaning up against the doorway jutting her hip out.

"Is there something you need Anna?" Louis asks shortly, not caring to have small talk at this moment.

"Oh yeah, I'm just here to escort Styles here to meet with his sister." She sounds disappointed that her flirting towards Louis has failed again.

"I think he'd rather be called by his first name, Anna. This isn't orange is the new black." Louis snaps back, a little harsher than intended. Luckily Anna doesn't notice and just giggles at what she thinks is a joke.

"It's fine Mr. Tomlinson, I don't mind." Harry moves up behind Louis. "Thank you so much for the gift, see you later." The younger boy squeezes past Louis into the hall with Anna. Holding the journal close to his chest.

Anna notices the wrapping paper on the bed and frowns. "Are therapists allowed to give their patients gifts?"

"It's just a journal Anna." Louis sighs.

"Yeah okay... a journal."

Ok... what the _fuck_ is that suppose to mean?

"Bye Louis." Anna smiles sweetly at him before grabbing Harry's arm and taking him down the hallway with her.

++++++++

"Gems!" Harry shouts excitedly when he sees his older sister sat down at one of the visitors tables.

"Harry!" She jumps quickly from her seat to bring her little brother into a big embrace.

"No touching." A buff looking male nurse says from the front of the room.

"Sorry." Harry answers back quietly, then sits down across from Gemma.

"Happy Birthday." Gemma smiles widely, but Harry can tell that something's bothering her.

"Thanks. What's wrong Gem?"

"I can't believe you're in here Harry, this is insane. I was visiting dad earlier and it's pretty much the same there. This isn't a prison but they sure make it seem like one."

"Wait. What do you mean you visited dad?" Harry is astonished she even still calls the man her father after what he had done.

"He's in prison, H. I went to visit him."

"But _why_." Harry asks.

Gemma rolls her eyes. "He's my father, Harry. You can't expect me not to have a relationship with him just because of what he had done to you."

"Wha-"

Gemma cuts him off. "It's your fault anyways that he's in prison."

"I'm not the one who raped-"

"Oh boo hoo. You got raped, get over it Harry. You murdered Mr. Winston yet you're not in prison."

"He _raped_ -"

"Whatever Harry, I thought visiting you on your birthday was a good idea... but obviously all you care about is what has happened to you in the past."

Tears start to spring up in Harry's eyes. "What are you saying Gem?" The sixteen year old sniffles.

"I can't deal with this. You're the reason dad's in jail. And it's your fault you're in this insane asylum." Gemma pushes herself from the chair and topples the chair over. "Bye Harry."

"Gemma wait!" Harry sobs, jumping up from his seat. "You're my sister, you're suppose to be on my side."

His older sister doesn't say anything as she walks away from her only brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not some of my best work, but none of this story is some of my best work


End file.
